Nearer my god to thee
by Macarousse
Summary: What if the Hetalia Nations were in the RMS Titanic, hoping for a peaceful journey on the Atlantic North Ocean ?
1. Don't let them go

**Errr. So. First attempt in English, yup yup. Little explanation.**

**This is highly inspired by the doujin crossover between Titanic and Hetalia, but it goes further in the other chapters. This fanfic is in French, but a friend of mine helped me with the English translation, hope there's not much mistakes… Human names, Anders is Ladonia. **

**I have already 22 chapters written in French, and I'll stop at 30. I'm late for the french part, but since I already have this translated a long time ago (since june actually %D), I just. Published it here, yeah. So. Feel free to tell me what's wrong and all, English isn't my mother tongue so I /make/ mistakes, and I'll be glad to have opinions and stuff. **

**I don't consider it as a crossover, yes, I takes scenes from the movie, but I try to say historically accurate, so, I'll just say it's an UA, where the Nations are, well, humans on a boat. Oh, and there will be some OCs, good OCs, not mine, I'll put credits for their authors like I did in French, obviously. Aaaand. That's all I can say right now.**

**Human names used, obviously. Anders is for Ladonia. The others are the official names. **

**Enjoy !**

* * *

**N**o, he couldn't believe this, he just couldn't. But yet, inexorably, the deck was dangerously tilting, making them stumble, amusing some children, not aware of the danger, who just slid down the slope. But he wasn't amused at all, he was scared, scared by this boat which sank into the meanders of the Atlantic Ocean. People hurried up against him, hardly hiding their anxiety and haste behind this mask of indifference and detachment appropriate for the aristocrats. Nose raised, some women, made up and restricted in their life jacket, judged their comfort and worried about their pointless possessions.

**I**f he could, Tino would slap them, those women. But he was rather worried about making his way through the crowd, holding Peter by the arm, pushing aside the people who hurried up near life boats. Berwald, behind him, carried Anders like a potato bag; the little one was not walking fast enough for the Swede. Tino often cast looks back, making sure they were still following them. In spite of the ban to the men to rise in boats, Tino wanted to save the two kids. Get them on a boat; grant them the chance to survive the disaster which occurred under their stunned eyes.

**A**rrived near the rail, Tino pushed Peter in front of him, keeping him safe from those men who shouted the injustice, the others who pushed their crying fiancées in the boats. Tino pulled. Of course he wanted to do the same, throw the youngs in the boats, that they survive. But the only idea to part from them squeezed his heart. He could feel tears rising to his eyes, a ball formed in his throat. He sniffed and composed himself, with heavy heart, he looked up at Berwald, who had put down Anders on the ground. The two little boys stared at the adults, not understanding. Why did they not simply rise in the boat?

**T**hen, Berwald took something out of his pocket and put it on Tino's head, before decking him out a shawl certainly pricked to a woman in the crowd. Unbelieving, the Finn let him do, looking at him with wide opened eyes. He only understood when Berwald opened the mouth, addressing one of the officers of edge in his approximate English.

_"Here! There's a w'man and two ch'ldren left!_"

**H**is heart skipped a beating, mouth opened in a dumb protest, Tino was pulled towards the boat. He stared at Berwald, while he was settled on one of the wooden benches, in the middle of all those tearful women, the nose in their handkerchief, who sobbed while looking at their husband, father, fiancé or brother, among the rows of the men still standing on the deck. Only when someone put Peter on his knees, Tino realized what was happening.

"_Berwald! No!_" he shouted, trying to get off the boat

**T**he Swede grabbed him by his shoulders and made him sit down, putting again Peter on his knees. He gave a blanket to Anders, who sat close, and turned to face Tino. A friendly smile decorated his usually so closed face. He recovered and stepped away from the edge, while the officers began the descent. Tino put down Peter next to him and got up, his hand stretched out towards the Swede.

"_Berwald! Why? Don't do that! Get on! Quick!_

__ W'men and ch'ldren f'rst, T'no._"

**E**yes filled with tears, Tino took Berwald's hand, trying to attract him. We didn't have to care about the rules, the life boat wasn't even full! There was still place for him after all. Anders and Peter stared at them, and didn't understand.

"_Papa isn't coming?_ Peter said, with a blank voice

__ Nh._

__ Why? Why don't you come with us?_ Anders shouted, he began to understand

__ There's an'ther boat for dads. We just part for a little m'ment, just a little one._"

**T**ino stretched out his arm, clung to this cold hand, Berwald's one, whereas the boat came down slowly. Tears tumbled down his cheeks in a crazy speed, while Berwald smiled to him sadly, to him, and to both boys who looked at him, startle.

"_Don't let 'em go, T'no._" Berwald said, while the boat still came down, and he released the Finn's hand, he was almost standing in the life boat.

**T**ino sat down, holding close Peter and Anders, he let uncontrolled sobs escape, eyes riveted the Swede's ones, which he would never see again, and who had just saved them.


	2. Whistle, as much as you can

**Hei ~**

**Here is one one the final scene of the movie. I tried to rewrite it well... It's Hungary's point of view here. I think she may be a little out of character here. **

**Human names used again, the officials, and Nataniel goes for Iceland and Aleksander for Norway.**

**Enjoy !**

* * *

**I**t was so cold, so cold she couldn't feel her toes anymore, nor even her feet. She was starring at the starry and cloudless sky, counting the stars while she hummed slowly, with some white vapor escaping from her purplish lips. She didn't hear people stir around her anymore, only the noise of the water manhandling the castaways scattered in the ocean. She shook Gilbert's hand in her, as if it was the buoy which hung her up to life. This cold hand prevented her from falling asleep, there, on this broken door floating on the water.

**H**e had sworn that the lifeboats will come back to them; he was sure that they'll be safe and sound, both of them. But she didn't believe it anymore. Long minutes had passed by, maybe hours, she didn't know, and she didn't care. The only thing she cared about was this cold. This cold, which surrounded her, drilled her skin, causing every inspiration to be harder than the previous one.

**B**efore, it was only screams and tears, all around them. All, they swam; they moved their legs, cried for help. Corpses were deprived from their life jacket, those without one panicked, leaning on those who had one. Elizaveta was lucky, being with Gilbert. The albino found this door, a little away from the rest of the passengers. Leaning on this wooden panel, Gilbert in the water by her side, she waited, for help, for redemption, for an assistance, which would maybe never come.

**S**houts and pleas had stopped; silence had been made little by little around them. She couldn't even hear Nataniel's whistle anymore, who was attempting, like the others, to call for the lifeboats. Elizaveta wondered for a moment why people were silent, but she chased away this macabre thought, not wanting to admit the reality. And then, a bright light caught her eyes. A lantern. A lifeboat. Help.

"Is there anyone alive? Does anyone hear me?"

**A** weak smile appeared on her face. She turned around and waved the hand which tightened Gilbert's one. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the as pale as a corpse face of the albino.

"Gilbert? Gil… Gil, the lifeboats, they're here, they're coming for us… Gilbert!"

**S**he shook him unceremoniously, while tears began to block her view. Like a china doll, Gilbert didn't move, didn't smile, didn't frown, did absolutely nothing. He kept this impassive mask, this lack of expression which didn't suit him at all, giving the impression that he slept. A sleep without dreams.

"GILBERT!"

**E**lizaveta began to shout at him, her voice raucously and weakened by the cold, as if raising her voice was enough to wake this human being, dead from the coldness, which she always held firmly. She even struck him, as if a slap could take him out of this lethargic state. She didn't want to admit it, but still. The voice faded away, with the lifeboat, with her only chance of survival.

"I won't give up, Gilbert. Goodbye."

**W**hispering those words, Elizaveta kissed the albino's cold hand before pushing aside the stiffened fingers which enclosed hers. She let him go, and watched the corpse sink in the ocean, inexorably pulled towards the bottom, his white hand seemed to tense towards her in a dumb and unconscious appeal.

Raising her head towards the boat which went away, she shouted after them, hailing them, trying to catch their attention. But there was nothing to do, they were going away, the light took off on the ocean, leaving her alone in the middle of the bodies of all these people.

"Is there anyone alive? Does anyone hear me?"

**O**f course she heard them! They were the deaf ones here. Angry, she dived into the cold water, held by her too big life jacket. Trembling like an autumn leaf, she begun to swim, stirring in this ice-cold water which bit her skin, hurting her, as if a thousand of knives stabbed her at the same time. Moving forward with difficulty, she hung on to the wooden chair which Nataniel was holding, his snow-white face as motionless as Gilbert's, whistle still in his mouth. Her heart ached a little and she took away the little whistle before blowing inside, as hardly as she could, her life depended on the sharp whistling which it produced.

"Turn back!"

**T**hat worked, the light went to her, dazzling her. She whistled, again and again, running out lungs, we could only hear her and her whistlings, whereas the boat approached her. She didn't stop until they reached her side.

**S**he left the chair, approaching the white shell. She crossed Aleksander's dull blue glance, before she was raised up in the boat by another man. Tino put a blanket around her shoulders, worrying about her state. She didn't answer, and raised her eyes towards the Norwegian which held his lantern, aiming at the ice-cold body of his brother. She had neither the strength nor the wanting to pronounce any word of comfort, as she was also upset. Elizaveta held out an opened hand to Aleksander, in the hollow of her palm, the metallic whistle.

**T**hen, she leaned on the cold wood, repeating that song which Gilbert whispered her on the deck of the ship he had joined in the deep ocean.

_"Come Josephine,_

_In my flying machine,_

_Going up she goes,_

_Up she goes."_

* * *

__**Thanks for reading, and again, feel free to point my mistakes ! **


End file.
